The silence on the other side of the door had felt like it had dragged on for hours rather than what was likely less than a minute. She had stayed still in her spot against the door, hoping to hear a confirmation that it was alright to enter, that she could see Angela and get the image of the devil from her mind. She knew she had done things she likely wasn't proud of, things that might leave their scars; Reaper had spoken of some, after all. Nearly dying. Breaking into buildings. Those things didn't come without risks.
The passive rejection makes her heart clench and her closed eyes tighten as she tries to remind herself that she at least wasn't telling her to go away. She didn't know how to respond at first. Of course she wanted to see her. No matter how much a mess she might have been, how upset she was - she had missed her these passed three weeks more than she could put into words. Which was the problem, really. She couldn't figure out how to say any of it.
She waited until she was sure her voice wouldn't tremble before she responded.
"I don't mind. But if you prefer, we can talk through the door."
It wasn't the scars from those situations that bothered her. She could handle even the gash on her shoulder that Reaper had stitched back together with all the skills of Gabriel Reyes. No, it was the bruises from his mouth and teeth and nails that she worried about. The thin lines where the knife had been used in dangerous but pleasing ways. She shivered even in the warmth of the water.
Despite those things, she wanted Moira. There really was no way to hide it forever. The light was dim anyway so she wasn't as likely to see everything.
"No, it's fine. Come in."
Her arms curled tighter around herself, and she leaned her cheek against on of her knees as she watched for the door to open. The water played with her hair, making it dance just under the surface and she let out a sigh. She was herself again, mostly. Blonde hair had returned to black and red eyes were once again blue. But her spirit was overwhelmed and she felt like a ghost of herself trying to pick up the pieces.
Moira releases a breath in a relieved sigh, pulling her head back from the door and opening her eyes again. She takes a second to make sure that she doesn't have any of the overwhelming emotions coursing through her detailed on her face, never the sort who has ever let them show with anyone right away, even Angela, and she wasn't about to start with a situation as heavy as this. She had her own burdens to bear, likely, and she didn't need Moira's on top of it.
Turning the handle, she let herself in, closing the door carefully behind her. She turned around to face her, leaning back against the frame, not sure if she should get closer. The light was dim and she couldn't make out much more than her figure in the tub as her eyes tried to adjust.
She wasn't sure what to say at first. How to start this. Was she supposed to ask how she was? Ask her what happened? If she needed to talk? Tell her she was there for her? It was unfamiliar; comfort wasn't her forte and discussing heavy topics that weren't related to science was even less of a skill.
"I'm sorry." It comes out before she can stop it, surprising even herself. But she decides it's the most important thing to say right now. "I - ... I don't know how much of what the devil said was really how you felt, but I'm sorry if you felt like I abandoned you. Perhaps I did. I don't know if my reasonings matter in the end if you truly feel as though I left you to fend for yourself."
Angela had spent most of her time finding ways to comfort herself. That didn't mean that she didn't appreciate Moira's words or the way she would hold her. The older woman was awkward as anything but that didn't mean anything to Angela, because when her arms were around her, she felt safe and loved. So if Moira was bad at comforting everyone else in the world, she was still good at comforting her.
For a moment she wanted to ask her to join her. They'd had some very romantic evenings in this bath. She could remember curling together as they talked about their days or what steps they were going to take next. Or that time Moira had swept her up soaking wet and carried her to bed with Angela complaining about getting everything wet, but laughing so hard she couldn't be taken seriously. From something as simple as washing her hair, to as erotic as touching this bath had seen many of their intimate moments.
She clung closer to herself. She didn't deserve that. Not after the things Mercy had done with her body. There was the sound of choked sob at Moira's words as she swallowed it down. She was miserable and so desperately unhappy and certain that she had ruined things for everyone by her actions.
She had felt abandoned. Lying awake every night after her games with Reaper knowing the Moira wouldn't have anything to do with her and allowing her mind to go elsewhere because of it. It was her own fault though. "No, I'm to blame. I don't know anything at all anymore, but it's all my fault Moira." She pressed her face into her knees as her shoulders shook from a fresh wave of tears. She was so sick of crying over everything.
Moira's heart ached as she watched her. She took in the injuries on her body, even if they were hard to distinguish in the light. The bruises were evident, the cuts, indents that seemed... strange among the rest, but were hard to make detail of from her place by the door. She hesitated on whether to come closer, whether she'd want her to, whether she was welcomed; but hearing her take the blame for Moira's actions felt like being stabbed in the gut and she couldn't simply let her do so after all she'd been through.
She was hesitant in her approach, reaching out carefully so as not to startle her, gently placing a hand at her shoulder first, sliding it carefully over her back as she kneeled by the tub.
"Angela..." Her voice was soft, the same gentle tone she'd given when she'd lied on her couch in her office only a month and a half ago, and again when she'd returned in her bed a week later. She swallowed roughly, trying to figure out what to say. "Whatever happened, you weren't entirely yourself. You can not shoulder full responsibility for your actions. Do not take such a burden onto yourself, not after everything you've already been through."
She knew she hadn't been herself, and her actions might have been easier to brush off if it had just been damage control. If only they had stuck to fighting in the tunnels and one upping each other in challenges. But after the first week it had been a quick spiral out of control until they had done what Angela would have considered in her right mind unthinkable.
When she feels Moira's hand on her back she feels an overwhelming rush of emotion for her. Moira. The woman that she loved. This was the woman that she battled with and fought against, but also the woman who made her stronger. She was the woman who Angela could talk to for hours on end in a way that few other could intellectual stimulate her. She turned her face towards her, one hand coming up to brush off the tears as she takes a shaky breath. There is only love in her eyes in that moment, she had missed her terribly. In fact she wasn't sure she had even realized how terribly she had missed her until just then.
"I love you." She was so confused by everything, but that was the truest thing she could say. She loved this woman and though she was terrified that when it came to light what she had done with Reaper, it would no longer be reciprocated. "And I am sorry. For everything I did to you. I did bad things Moira. And I'm so sorry. But I love you, please know that."
She couldn't help but wrinkle her forehead at the sudden confession. The rambling attached to it, the apologies and the confessions of terrible things. She wasn't sure what to say at first, because she hadn't thought that anything Reaper had mentioned to her about their expeditions had warranted her reminding her that she loved her.
Which was perhaps why she couldn't help the small chuckle, reaching out to brush some of Angela's wet hair from her face, tilting her head. "I hardly think breaking into a few buildings and risking your life doing who knows what requires a reminder," she said softly. "I don't mean to belittle the actions of the Devil, I do not like that you put yourself in the way of so much danger, but you came out of it... mostly unscathed."
Her eyes flickered to her injuries again, frowning.
Moira thought she was apologizing for the risks that she had taken. Risking her life, theft, vandalism, and breaking in. She couldn't help but let out a little sob at that. It was so much worse than any of that. Those things she could scold herself over, but brush off easily enough as no one ever got hurt by them. What she had participated in had been so much worse than that. There was a part of her that wanted to just accept that and move on. See if she could successfully bury it.
No, that wasn't right or fair.
Her fingers traced along her legs, running up and down over the goose pimples that had formed on them despite the warmth of the water. She shivered.
"I wish I could say it was just that Moira. I'd have an easy enough time forgiving myself for that." She could go around and repair or pay for any stolen product or damages. It would be an easy fix. "But, it's worse than that. And I know...what I'm going to say will hurt you." She let out a sigh. "If not entirely push you away from me."
There was a guilt that gnawed at Moira's stomach as she watched her struggle, saw the after effects of all the past few weeks had done to her. A guilt that told her she should have done this sooner, should have intervened before it could get so in depth, rather than running away and trying to hide from it all, excusing herself from it and trying to let it run a natural course. Was this regret? She so rarely actually experienced it, usually believing that one should never back down from owning the choices that they've made.
What if she betrays your trust with all these ventures?
She pushed back the memory of the painful texts with Gabriel, swallowing roughly as she reached out to try and take one of her lover's hands. "Angela. Whatever it is, you can tell me. We... have been through a great deal together in our lifetime, I do not think we can be shaken apart so easily."
Staring into Moira's eyes in the dark of the room made her want to curl back in on herself. She'd already made the bold statement of saying that it was something bigger and she knew that Moira would know if she was lying. She brought Moira's hand to her lips, turning it over and kissing the palm of it. The taller woman was home and safety and she wished she could get the gnawing guilt to subside enough to enjoy returning to her. Maybe they could have made love in the dark and she would figure out what was real and what was the devil's doing.
Still, Angela was a good person. She was an honest person. There was nothing that she could do but face the reality of her actions and tell her what had happened. Denying it would get them nowhere and would only eat her alive.
"It's not fair of me to hide this..." She said that more to herself than to Moira, but she needed to hear it too. "When we are dishonest with each other it leads us nowhere good. So I just hope in time you'll forgive me." She looked at Moira and knew she was pushing it by then.
"I..." She rolled Moira's hand with hers, trailing her fingers over her lover's and noting the places where her skin was delayed in it's aging, keeping her young. She bit her lip, unable to meet her eyes. "Things with Reaper. They took a turn. I've spent the last few days..." How to put it. She let out a sigh. "...in his bed."
This is the closest icon I have to her expression and it seems not serious enough for this scene
There was very little in the world that could cause Moira to look genuinely caught off guard. She usually had a fairly easy time predicting outcomes and even when she failed to do so, she was rarely ever surprised enough to have it show. She kept her emotions well guarded and her expression consistently stoic. It was a habit she’d had since childhood and it had come in handy over many years of difficult news, painful decisions and unfavorable results.
But it showed now; it started with her forehead wrinkling in confusion, like she was attempting to parse out a riddle, rather than taking the words at face value. The more they sunk in, the more the reality of it hit her, the more the confusion changed to surprise, her eyes widening for a moment and her breath seeming to stop all together. In his bed was a nicety meant to ease the blow - whether she used it for Moira’s sake or for Angela’s didn’t matter, it was likely just as ineffective in its intent for the other doctor. Angela had slept with Reaper. The last few days indicated that it wasn’t just a one-off decision in the middle of bad choices, but a conscious and, possibly, intimate thing that had happened far more than once. It was that fact that made her feel like a large weight had suddenly been placed on her chest and she was supposed to figure out how to keep moving with it there. She went to untangle her hand from Angela’s, not because of a lack of desire to touch her after hearing it, but because touch in general always became almost physically painful when her emotions started to take control of her rationiality.
Conversations with Reaper made more sense, had more clarity - he had been asking for her help. Asking for her to stop Angela because he could tell things were getting out of hand. The last talk with Mercy felt more clear than before as well, the taunting and the warnings of her behavior filling her mind as she tried to cope with this new information. She clenched her jaw as she felt it try to tremble, determined to keep herself at least moderately in check at the moment.
She felt sick.
“... Why?”
She would later echo this same question to Reaper, but the motive felt like the most important knowledge that she currently lacked. Perhaps she was wrong, perhaps it was something as simple as because they could or they were bored, but she doubted it. While Devil Mercy may have been happy to do something so flippantly where Angela wouldn’t, Reyes would never have done something like this without a much stronger reason than that. She was sure of it. And that meant there were feelings - on one end or both - and it terrified her whether or not they still lingered. Reassurance she’d given in her love for her just moments before seemed to comfort her less when she could also love someone else simultaneously.
Just the look on Moira's face made her heart squeeze in pain. She had known the pain her honesty was going to cause, but it didn't make it any easier to see the actual outcome. She was glad again of the dim light so that it would be hard to differentiate where his teeth had taken to her skin versus where she had other bruises and cuts. The only one that was really prominent was the large laceration on her shoulder that had been fixed by his hand. That had been the tipping point though. She hated that it still ached at the memory of stitching without numbing medication.
She turned her eyes down, there was shame written in every part of her body as she clung to herself as if trying to become even smaller. She wanted to disappear into the water.
It wouldn't have surprised her that Reaper had gone to her for help. After all, she had been on a path of destruction and Reaper had been an obsession and need of hers. She had been relentless in her pursuit of him and she had known that he wanted it, giving her even more drive to get him.
Angela couldn't face her when she tried to formulate the words to explain. "I don't know entirely. After eating the cake, I was consumed by things I would never usually think about. I cared for things that don't usually matter to me, and I had no desire to live by any rules. He found me eating the cake that first night and I think we became obsessed with each other after a single night of destruction, drinking, and fighting. I felt like I had to have him and nothing could get in that way." She wanted to point out that Moira's neglect of her had aided to it, but she didn't want to make Moira blame herself for any of it. The first night she and Moira had had sex, it had been good and she had loved it. After that it was like she had become distant. "Perhaps my desire to find Gabriel was twisted by the cake and it grew out of that. It doesn't even matter, I broke my fidelity to you and I am so sorry."
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The passive rejection makes her heart clench and her closed eyes tighten as she tries to remind herself that she at least wasn't telling her to go away. She didn't know how to respond at first. Of course she wanted to see her. No matter how much a mess she might have been, how upset she was - she had missed her these passed three weeks more than she could put into words. Which was the problem, really. She couldn't figure out how to say any of it.
She waited until she was sure her voice wouldn't tremble before she responded.
"I don't mind. But if you prefer, we can talk through the door."
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Despite those things, she wanted Moira. There really was no way to hide it forever. The light was dim anyway so she wasn't as likely to see everything.
"No, it's fine. Come in."
Her arms curled tighter around herself, and she leaned her cheek against on of her knees as she watched for the door to open. The water played with her hair, making it dance just under the surface and she let out a sigh. She was herself again, mostly. Blonde hair had returned to black and red eyes were once again blue. But her spirit was overwhelmed and she felt like a ghost of herself trying to pick up the pieces.
Time to face the consequences, she supposed.
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Turning the handle, she let herself in, closing the door carefully behind her. She turned around to face her, leaning back against the frame, not sure if she should get closer. The light was dim and she couldn't make out much more than her figure in the tub as her eyes tried to adjust.
She wasn't sure what to say at first. How to start this. Was she supposed to ask how she was? Ask her what happened? If she needed to talk? Tell her she was there for her? It was unfamiliar; comfort wasn't her forte and discussing heavy topics that weren't related to science was even less of a skill.
"I'm sorry." It comes out before she can stop it, surprising even herself. But she decides it's the most important thing to say right now. "I - ... I don't know how much of what the devil said was really how you felt, but I'm sorry if you felt like I abandoned you. Perhaps I did. I don't know if my reasonings matter in the end if you truly feel as though I left you to fend for yourself."
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For a moment she wanted to ask her to join her. They'd had some very romantic evenings in this bath. She could remember curling together as they talked about their days or what steps they were going to take next. Or that time Moira had swept her up soaking wet and carried her to bed with Angela complaining about getting everything wet, but laughing so hard she couldn't be taken seriously. From something as simple as washing her hair, to as erotic as touching this bath had seen many of their intimate moments.
She clung closer to herself. She didn't deserve that. Not after the things Mercy had done with her body. There was the sound of choked sob at Moira's words as she swallowed it down. She was miserable and so desperately unhappy and certain that she had ruined things for everyone by her actions.
She had felt abandoned. Lying awake every night after her games with Reaper knowing the Moira wouldn't have anything to do with her and allowing her mind to go elsewhere because of it. It was her own fault though. "No, I'm to blame. I don't know anything at all anymore, but it's all my fault Moira." She pressed her face into her knees as her shoulders shook from a fresh wave of tears. She was so sick of crying over everything.
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She was hesitant in her approach, reaching out carefully so as not to startle her, gently placing a hand at her shoulder first, sliding it carefully over her back as she kneeled by the tub.
"Angela..." Her voice was soft, the same gentle tone she'd given when she'd lied on her couch in her office only a month and a half ago, and again when she'd returned in her bed a week later. She swallowed roughly, trying to figure out what to say. "Whatever happened, you weren't entirely yourself. You can not shoulder full responsibility for your actions. Do not take such a burden onto yourself, not after everything you've already been through."
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When she feels Moira's hand on her back she feels an overwhelming rush of emotion for her. Moira. The woman that she loved. This was the woman that she battled with and fought against, but also the woman who made her stronger. She was the woman who Angela could talk to for hours on end in a way that few other could intellectual stimulate her. She turned her face towards her, one hand coming up to brush off the tears as she takes a shaky breath. There is only love in her eyes in that moment, she had missed her terribly. In fact she wasn't sure she had even realized how terribly she had missed her until just then.
"I love you." She was so confused by everything, but that was the truest thing she could say. She loved this woman and though she was terrified that when it came to light what she had done with Reaper, it would no longer be reciprocated. "And I am sorry. For everything I did to you. I did bad things Moira. And I'm so sorry. But I love you, please know that."
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Which was perhaps why she couldn't help the small chuckle, reaching out to brush some of Angela's wet hair from her face, tilting her head. "I hardly think breaking into a few buildings and risking your life doing who knows what requires a reminder," she said softly. "I don't mean to belittle the actions of the Devil, I do not like that you put yourself in the way of so much danger, but you came out of it... mostly unscathed."
Her eyes flickered to her injuries again, frowning.
"Though clearly not completely."
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No, that wasn't right or fair.
Her fingers traced along her legs, running up and down over the goose pimples that had formed on them despite the warmth of the water. She shivered.
"I wish I could say it was just that Moira. I'd have an easy enough time forgiving myself for that." She could go around and repair or pay for any stolen product or damages. It would be an easy fix. "But, it's worse than that. And I know...what I'm going to say will hurt you." She let out a sigh. "If not entirely push you away from me."
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What if she betrays your trust with all these ventures?
She pushed back the memory of the painful texts with Gabriel, swallowing roughly as she reached out to try and take one of her lover's hands. "Angela. Whatever it is, you can tell me. We... have been through a great deal together in our lifetime, I do not think we can be shaken apart so easily."
no subject
Still, Angela was a good person. She was an honest person. There was nothing that she could do but face the reality of her actions and tell her what had happened. Denying it would get them nowhere and would only eat her alive.
"It's not fair of me to hide this..." She said that more to herself than to Moira, but she needed to hear it too. "When we are dishonest with each other it leads us nowhere good. So I just hope in time you'll forgive me." She looked at Moira and knew she was pushing it by then.
"I..." She rolled Moira's hand with hers, trailing her fingers over her lover's and noting the places where her skin was delayed in it's aging, keeping her young. She bit her lip, unable to meet her eyes. "Things with Reaper. They took a turn. I've spent the last few days..." How to put it. She let out a sigh. "...in his bed."
This is the closest icon I have to her expression and it seems not serious enough for this scene
But it showed now; it started with her forehead wrinkling in confusion, like she was attempting to parse out a riddle, rather than taking the words at face value. The more they sunk in, the more the reality of it hit her, the more the confusion changed to surprise, her eyes widening for a moment and her breath seeming to stop all together. In his bed was a nicety meant to ease the blow - whether she used it for Moira’s sake or for Angela’s didn’t matter, it was likely just as ineffective in its intent for the other doctor. Angela had slept with Reaper. The last few days indicated that it wasn’t just a one-off decision in the middle of bad choices, but a conscious and, possibly, intimate thing that had happened far more than once. It was that fact that made her feel like a large weight had suddenly been placed on her chest and she was supposed to figure out how to keep moving with it there. She went to untangle her hand from Angela’s, not because of a lack of desire to touch her after hearing it, but because touch in general always became almost physically painful when her emotions started to take control of her rationiality.
Conversations with Reaper made more sense, had more clarity - he had been asking for her help. Asking for her to stop Angela because he could tell things were getting out of hand. The last talk with Mercy felt more clear than before as well, the taunting and the warnings of her behavior filling her mind as she tried to cope with this new information. She clenched her jaw as she felt it try to tremble, determined to keep herself at least moderately in check at the moment.
She felt sick.
“... Why?”
She would later echo this same question to Reaper, but the motive felt like the most important knowledge that she currently lacked. Perhaps she was wrong, perhaps it was something as simple as because they could or they were bored, but she doubted it. While Devil Mercy may have been happy to do something so flippantly where Angela wouldn’t, Reyes would never have done something like this without a much stronger reason than that. She was sure of it. And that meant there were feelings - on one end or both - and it terrified her whether or not they still lingered. Reassurance she’d given in her love for her just moments before seemed to comfort her less when she could also love someone else simultaneously.
no subject
She turned her eyes down, there was shame written in every part of her body as she clung to herself as if trying to become even smaller. She wanted to disappear into the water.
It wouldn't have surprised her that Reaper had gone to her for help. After all, she had been on a path of destruction and Reaper had been an obsession and need of hers. She had been relentless in her pursuit of him and she had known that he wanted it, giving her even more drive to get him.
Angela couldn't face her when she tried to formulate the words to explain. "I don't know entirely. After eating the cake, I was consumed by things I would never usually think about. I cared for things that don't usually matter to me, and I had no desire to live by any rules. He found me eating the cake that first night and I think we became obsessed with each other after a single night of destruction, drinking, and fighting. I felt like I had to have him and nothing could get in that way." She wanted to point out that Moira's neglect of her had aided to it, but she didn't want to make Moira blame herself for any of it. The first night she and Moira had had sex, it had been good and she had loved it. After that it was like she had become distant. "Perhaps my desire to find Gabriel was twisted by the cake and it grew out of that. It doesn't even matter, I broke my fidelity to you and I am so sorry."